


Indomitable

by Storm0fCrows



Category: Justice League: Gods and Monsters (2015), Teen Titans (Animated Series)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:21:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29545074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Storm0fCrows/pseuds/Storm0fCrows
Summary: Faster than a racing stallion, more powerful than a raging bull, with the ability to cross fields with a single bound, Hernan Guerra was on the run from the law and himself. His anger stole his family, his cowardice allowed it to happen, and his mysterious power had facilitated it all. Now in Jump City, he hopes to find answers to his origin before its mystery destroys him.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	1. Go! Part 1

Chapter One: GO! Part 1

Hernan Guerra shifted in the polyester seat of the Greyhound that would take him to Jump City. The uncomfortableness of the seat itself did not spur on his movements; he had been seated on worse and for much, much longer, but by his growing impatience. Hours passed slowly in the silver shuttle, and the slowly changing landscape did little to soothe his mounting irritation with the people around him.

A baby was crying in the front of the bus, being ignored by the pair sitting beside it. There was nothing wrong with the act of a child trying to get its parents' attention there. The fault fell with the man and the woman who were doing their very best to eviscerate each other with words mounting in ferocity and volume. If there were a moment that solidified Hernan's lack of separateness from the rest of humanity, this was it.

There was an old man that spent the trip giving Hernan the evil eye, which he was returned unwaveringly. Unlike every other person on the Greyhound, Hernan recognized the disgraced General Samuel Lane. He was an outspoken man who had been twisted by his hatred of Metropolis' Superman to full-blown paranoia against everyone not born in the United States. He was responsible for the Steel Soldier initiative, which ended up creating and unleashing a serial killer known only as Metallo to the public.

Hernan's padre had watched the General's trial compulsively over dinner. He would say that man was the reason that Hernan and his sister Valentina had to work hard and make something of themselves. To ensure that the powerful were held accountable for the wrongs they committed. The criminal courts could not convict him of Metallo's crimes, but the Military courts had him discharged for violating human rights behind closed doors. The man's own daughter had leaked it to the press just as he was announcing his retirement.

Manuel Guerra worshipped the flag and what it stood for, and he had genuinely tried to instill those values in Hernan. Peace, justice, and the pursuit of happiness. These were the ideals that inspired his padre to push Hernan until his muscles screamed, his fingers bled, and until he understood the struggle of the everyman. His strength grew with his character, but it wasn't about power. There would always be more work, no matter how quickly he plowed and sowed the fields or how many bushels of grain he could carry.

But that man was the very antithesis of everything his padre stood for. Lane wanted peace through conflict. He held security above liberty and believed that happiness only belonged to those fortunate enough to be born within America's borders.

The last thing Hernan had heard of the man was that he was retiring to Florida, but clearly, those plans had changed. Most likely since Tampa Bay was hosting the Atlantean Embassy, for however long that lasts.

There was also a boy in the back with spiky black hair that stank of hair gel. He pretended to be asleep usually wouldn't concern Hernan at all, but the bag at his feet had more than a few explosives hidden away in a bright yellow utility belt. Hernan wasn't sure if the boy was on the bus for him.

He had been approached before, and that had led to the fire and ended with him on this bus. His scowl turned into a grimace as he turned. He looked out of towards the quickly approaching skyline

Jump City was surrounded by lush green mountains and a crystalline blue sea in an almost crescent shape. The beauty itself of the place was the blend of the city and the surrounding nature. It was, for all intents and purposes, the west coast equivalent of Metropolis. It was a dream brought to life by the ingenuity of the Kord Industries, Hoshi Zaibatsu, and S.T.A.R. Labs. It was a veritable City of Tomorrow, a city of scientists, where the unknown became known… a place where Hernan could find answers.

The shuttle stopped in the waterfront with a clear view of the Bay Bridge and a whole slew of food carts for the hungry group of travelers. Hernan took one last look at the other passengers of the Greyhound. The couple was still arguing, but both had a comforting hand on their child's stroller, gently rocking it as they walked away. Lane gave him half a glance before disappearing into the bus station.

Gel Boy was nowhere to be seen.

He stood there for a moment, pondering what to do now that he had arrived at Jump City. Food was a priority, as it had been days since he had more than a few migajas, crumbs, to hold himself over, but that could wait until the sun disappeared beyond the horizon.

"A breath of fresh air would do me good." He stated under his breath and began to walk towards the nearest park, or perhaps the outskirts of the city, if the green zones were too displeasing.

As he walked, he made a note of the Pizza Corner. It was a triangular-shaped building, like the Flatiron in New York City, that divided Haney Street, and Cardy Way. It wasn't exactly a tall building, which was very much the norm this far west because of the frequency and devastation of earthquakes. Still, it did stand out because of the second-story balcony, which was built in the shape of a pizza slice held up by a single steel pillar covered by a decent amount as its support structure.

"Interesting gimmick," Hernan said with a hearty chuckle. Usually, he would have written off the restaurant for its reliance on a gimmick but considering that amount of people dining at the establishment, it was not just for show.

Moving on, Hernan continued walking past the local Video Dome and towards some trees, inadvertently finding the real reason he had come to Jump City.

Scientific and Technological Advanced Research or S.T.A.R. Labs was the leading scientific authority in the United States. They, alongside the Hoshi Group, supplied the city's law enforcement with non-lethal methods of pacifying meta-humans. They dealt with science, be it the mad scientists or visitors from another world. If there was a group that could help Hernan find the answers he was so desperately searching for, it was S.T.A.R. Labs.

Their building stood tall, curving slightly forward, yet somehow reflecting the bright blue sky. Its offices extended around its large courtyard where there was a single long water fountain bordered by four eight-foot-tall slabs of pure black carbon on each side. The stones were completely smooth, without any tool marks hinting at the procedure used to cut the stone, except for the single words that were carved into the sides of each one.

Science.

Technology.

Advancement.

Research.

The symbolism was unmistakable. These words were more than parts of a name. These were the pillars that held up an institution. The purity of their motivation should have uplifted Hernan's spirit of discovery but all he felt was the daunting weight of his decision.

The building was a marvel, but to Hernan, a man whose strength had carried him through the harshness of life and had prided himself on his self-control, it was as inspiring as a towering, rapidly approaching tidal wave.

He was under no delusion that he was in any way a normal human being. It took tremendous force to split his skin, the strength of his breath could disperse the poisonous clouds of pesticides released by low flying crop-dusters, he could stop a charging bull with one hand and lift a truck with another; but for the life him, Hernan could go no forward.

It was fear that froze him in place.

Deep, creeping, and cold fear that comes with confirmation. He believed that he was something more than human, perhaps a Metahuman, but what if he wasn't?

But what if he wasn't human?

'What if…'

His feet felt as if they were made led. Each step that he took towards the place that he would find the truth, the more they seemed to weigh. This continued until he reached the globe statue, that was when his very legs felt like they no longer wanted to follow his commands. He stood there like a statue as if the weight of his indecision literally weighed him down. It was as if the God that his Madre had taught him to love and worship was pressing down on his back.

And as much as he tried to bring himself closer, to grasp the mystery of the boy that his parents found in a burning field, he could not.

'Coward.' A cold voice whispered in the back if his head tickling the base of his spine. It took him like a fever. Every nerve in his body was tingling with uneasy energy. It was a familiar feeling. He felt it when the farmers paid the crop dusters to fly over their fields while poor workers gathered their crops, when men turned their lustful gaze towards his beloved sister, and when that _monstruo_ stole away her ability to walk.

Powerlessness.

What followed was rage, burning hot rage that made the blood in his body boil, his muscles strain, and caused his mind to sharpen.

He could do nothing but stand there, staring like a craven.

Nothing except retreat, and this did nothing to aid his mood.

o0o0o0o

Central Park was fine, but there were far too many people for Hernan to keep track of, too much noise to think, and too little peace for him to calm himself effectively.

So, walked until there were no tall buildings, no bullets to outpace, and nothing that he needed to test his strength against though there was an elderly couple that had needed help pushing their stalled car off the road. He walked until there were houses built of wood and plaster instead of obelisks of steel and concrete… and then he walked some more. He didn't hurry. What could have taken him a handful of minutes, he allowed to stretch on for hours with eyes closed and his expression neutral.

He could still hear them if he focused.

The squeak of a secondhand wheelchair.

'Mi hermano no es un monstruo'

'Lo sé, querida.'

The thumbing of rosary beads.

'He came from God, Manuel, why could you not see?'

'Lo sé, mi amor,'

The heavy thump of worn work boots as they paced on equally worn wood.

His family…

They did not understand why he had left, but there was enough resentment in their voices that almost made him stop.

Almost.

Valentina, his older sister, and his Madre blamed his Father for Hernan's departure. They thought that his harsh words were the catalyst for driving him away.

They were right, of course.

Despite being for years older than him, Valentina was his best friend, and he was hers. She knew everything about Hernan, even things that he did not know of himself. His mother did not know him as well, but she could intuit like no other.

They were right, but not for the right reasons.

"Not that it matters now." He tried to convince himself.

"Home is behind, the world ahead,  
And there are many paths to tread."

There were few things that Hernan knew that for certain, but he knew they would perceiver, perhaps even thrive. Their bonds were forged of something more robust than steel, unshakeable like a mountain blasted by howling winds. They were free of him and of the burdens he brought. They would live to forget him. That was what mattered to him.

When he opened his eyes, Hernan was surrounded by high walls of jagged rock.

His knuckles were white with the pure strain of his clenched fist. He pulled his focus away from his family, away from the sparse light that their voices sparked in his dark heart, and roared.

It was a deep rumbling sound that grew stronger as he launched himself against the rock. The impact of his fists smashing against stone did nothing to drown out his scream. It was a completely human sound born from his rage, grief, and guilt for actions taken, actions he should have taken, and actions he should have taken.

Each impact was thunderous, but he did not relent.

Each strike was done without hesitation, but that was because he did so without thought.

Each hit splintered the rock, but it also wore at his skin.

Either his fist would break, or the canyon would bow to it.

Every night he dreamed of a dying world, and a cruel man determined to rule it in its final days. He dreamed of a woman that treated his creation as a mission, as her duty, rather than out of any sense of care. He dreamed of an enemy that would do and did anything it could to achieve absolute victory.

The loss of veritable utopia led to the splintering of the planet's leadership, which weakened it when it came time to make war with the marauding neighboring world and, finally, the death of the world itself. This unseen villain haunted his dreams, which often spooked him to the point that he would shake Valentina to feel some semblance of security.

He must have been a pathetic sight… with the way that his powerless sister looked at him while calming his nerves. Hernan could bound across fields with a single jump, lift his father car and hold it while the old man changed its wheels, and outrun the coyotes without breaking too much of a sweat and she was the only one that didn't look at him as if he was speaking about fighting the Knight of Mirrors.

Valentina cared for him, and that was why no matter how bad the dreams became, he would not, could not, wake her.

He did not wish to add to her burdens; after all their parents expected many things from her that they did not expect from Hernan. He was not of their blood despite being their son, Valentina was, and she would be their legacy. All he could do was not add to that. She was bright, not just in intellect, in all aspects of life. She met every challenge thrown her way with a smile, but he could see the stain in the smile and the tiredness in her eyes.

But he had added to her burdens.

If not for him, Valentina would not be trapped in a broken-down chair!

Minutes turned to hours; hours turned to haze. By the time he was able to pull himself away from the black pit that swallowed him up, there was a forty-foot-deep human-sized hole in the side of the stone wall, and calloused knuckles were bleeding profusely, but at least it was partially out of his system.

The anger was still there and would, most likely, always be.

Hernan looked up at an orange sky and stared at the descending sun with something akin to relief. Gave the small cave, he created one last look before beginning his trek towards Jump City, though trek was not the right word he would use to describe his journey.

The muscles in his legs coiled with enough force that the dirt beneath his boots shook with the strain. Hernan fell into a crouch with his arms spread to his side for balance, and he shot into the air. The world fell away as he rose toward the fiery orange sky, his eyes never leaving the direction of the city.

He couldn't look at the stars that would forever be beyond his reach. Hernan couldn't fly. He could do was fall with style, but he could only jump so high on his own. He could feel the subtle changes in temperature, but it didn't bother him in the slightest. A cool summer breeze affected him as much as the bitter chill of winter. By shifting his body, he was able to control the direction of his descent. This was not in any way, a stealthy approach. He could not slow down, and the impact left evidence in the form of a crater.

There also was an almost deafening sound when his feet impacted the earth before pushing off into the air again. It was not dissimilar to the sound of two rock smashing together, rather than the rumbling of thunder. He soared through the air with calculated effectiveness that could be easily misinterpreted as grace.

What had taken him hours to traverse walking at a leisurely pace was covered in less than ten minutes of leaping within the more wooden areas even with conscious effort to avoid detection. It was a long way around which had him going along the edge of the of the forest. Well, deep enough that he would not be seen by a bored kid looking out the car window and confuse his striking figure with that useless blue bastard on the East Coast.

When he reached the south most suburb of Jump City, found himself landing over a forested hill next to what he could assume was some kind of Shinto shrine. The red wood was discolored and was mostly chipped. There were a few charms, some much older than others, and even more loose hanging string where the wind had stolen the charms away.

It was odd thing to see but Jump City was supposedly an odd place. Hernan gave half-hearted shrug and started his human paced descent towards the city.

o0o0o0o

Hernan was not sure how he ended up in a lounge chair in a secluded corner of a Victorian-esc bookstore with a copy of Mio Cid in his hands. There were few people buzzing about, chatting about the dreariness of life, and with personalities that seemed to match seemed to match their dark clothes. Yet for how muted things felt there was certainly an air of liveliness that seemed to come exclusively from the hostess.

She was a woman that carried herself with almost preternatural levels grace that made Hernan feel like she was walking on water rather than neatly polished dark wood floors. Her dress was simple and elegant violet kalasiris that was both conservative and enticing. Her arms where covered with silver bangles that did not clink against each other as she moved from one point of the room to the other. Her voice was melodic and soothing like a small stream of water. Her hair was rolling waves of black that contrasted perfectly against her tan skin.

And then finally, there were her deep indigo eyes that seemed to hold the secrets of the universe behind them. They were almond shaped but that did nothing to detract from the sheer intensity of her gaze. They ran up and down his body critically yet not appreciatively which in turn caused Hernan a minor sense of confusion.

He was proud of his looks and he was right to do so. His mother had called his appearance angelic with just how handsome he was, and he had more than his fair share of admirers that had shared her opinion. Tanned skin, crystalline blue eyes and a body that had only seen Sundays as days of rest had given him the edge with the ladies. But with the way that this woman was looking at him none of that had mattered.

She was picking him apart with her eyes and it was almost enough to put down the leather-bound book that he held in his hand if not for a welcome distraction that sat herself in the lounge chair beside his.

The distraction was a girl around his age in a black tube top that left her midriff exposed, a short black skirt, and heavy combat boots. The only scrap of color in her outfit came from the blood-red Celtic cross that hung from her neck on a silver linked chain. She was fairly pretty, even with the pallor that came from being more of a denizen of the night than regular beachgoer. Her eyes were a relatively standard shade of blue. Her piercings were made up of Ankhs of various forms and styles. Her was strangely styled, the top was combed and gelled back into two fin like structures and sides, or at least the side Hernan could see had a kind of green fade.

She eyed him several times more appreciatively than the hostess, running her eyes from his chest to his abs, then up his tanned, muscular arms to finally land on the exquisite features of his face. It was slender with blue eyes that could be easily mistaken for the sky, with a strong chin and pronounced cheekbones.

The hostess was beside the newcomer before her duffle bag hit the floor.

"I'll have a coffee with cream and two sugars." The newcomer said with the confidence of a regular customer. Hernan enjoyed many things about people, and confidence was chief among them. "My friend here will take his black, Xan." The hostess nodded, shooting them both a small false smile before disappearing to another table.

"Bold." Hernan complimented as soon as the ethereal was out of earshot.

"Dad always said I wasn't going to get anywhere with people if I didn't leave an impression." She shot back with an almost challenging smile.

"Your father must be a wise man." Hernan returned her smile with one of his own.

The girl didn't giggle, she laughed heartedly, but there, it did not feel natural. For a second, he thought he saw her wilt a bit, but she bounced back before most would notice.

It was loud enough to laugh that he had to scan the room to ensure that they weren't irritating the other patrons. None of them seemed to notice them or reacted to her peals of laughter out of placeness, which Hernan assumed meant that they honestly couldn't bring themselves to care.

"Not really," She said between breaths, her pallor breached by the small blush that coated her cheeks. "But he scored with my mom, and that has to count for something."

"Quite right." Hernan put down the book on a small, painted glass table that he was utterly confident wasn't there a minute ago, turning his chair with the ease of his strength to face her. She had done the same with a smile that never left her face. There was something challenging in her smile that made him want to rise up to meet it.

"Where are you from?" She finally asked, taking a sip from a cup that hadn't been there before the hostess had departed.

"Wouldn't you prefer to know my name?" Hernan put down the book, reaching for his own cup that had not been there previously.

"Nah, names kill the mystery, and that's where all the fun is." There it was, the first boundary. Flirtation was not like a game of cards; it didn't have pauses to assess risk. It was a dance, one fluid motion after another, except in cases like the seated across from him, it was more opposition than a partnership. She wanted something from him, and Hernan wanted something from her.

"Fine." Whatever that something was, it had yet to be determined. "Warpath, it's next to El Paso." His answer, while honest, was not close to the truth. His family had never lived. In Warpath proper and that was very much a blessing from the Lady of Guadalupe, it was at least according to his mother.

"Warpath?" She put down the cup and, in its place, was a copy of A Scandal in Bohemia. She didn't flip it open, instead putting on the coffee table as Hernan had. She leaned forward, close enough that a normal man would have been able to smell her, nodding her head. She smelled like the plants of the earth, flowers closer to Belladonna than roses or lilacs, and ozone. "Sounds like an interesting place."

"Interesting… is a word for Warpath." The humor in his voice was still there, but there was an obviously strained quality to his voice. Warpath was, for the most part, a warzone between three factions. Sheriff Saunders and his _deputies_ on one side _,_ Santana and El Diablo on the other, and every other poor soul trying to live from day to day. "What about you?" He pulled the cup towards his nose to… cleanse the palate, as some would say. "Where are you from?"

"Boring old Dayton."

"Without you? Any place would be boring."

She was reaching for El Cid when he said it. She froze, her blue eyes locking onto his. If she hadn't been smiling already, her lips would have quirked up.

"Bold."

"I was told that I needed to leave an impression."

Her laughter was honest and unrestrained. A more romantic man would say it was melodic, but that seemed too delicate to describe her laughter. That wasn't to say that it was in any way an unpleasant sound. It was rough and jagged as her appearance, but it wasn't unpleasant.

Mostly because it was real.

No one bated an eye at them, either too absorbed with themselves to notice the ruckus or something else preternatural was taking place.

"That you were, Champ." Where there was curiosity, there was now a fair amount of fondness.

"Champ?" Curiosity tinted his voice while he observed the micro-expressions on her face. It wasn't exactly hard to get where she got the name. El Cid was also known as 'el Campeador', which meant the Champion…

It was just odd to be nicknamed so out of the blue, but then again, it was fairly bizarre that someone would start flirting with him in a bookstore, even taking into consideration his good looks and tight shirt.

That being said, it was a rather fitting nickname.

"Well." She leaned back with arms crossed loosely over her exposed midriff. She wasn't self-conscious though she was trying to project that. "I'm not calling you lord and with a body like yours…" A hungry smile took the place of her flirtatious one. "…Champ fits.

"How about I tell you my name?"

"Nope." She said with a pop. "That'll kill the mystery."

"Fair enough," He paused for a slightly dramatic effect. "Adler"

"Now you're getting it."

From there on, their light flirtation continued for some time—neither divulging anything truly meaningful. 'Adler' ended up trading her phone number for his before leaving. Xan, the hostess, informed him that Adler had already paid for his coffee and the book as she departed, which left Hernan with little else to do than to go find a proper meal to satiate his previously ignored hunger.

As he left, a girl in a dark blue cloak nearly ran into. She stopped a hair's breadth before impact and visibly recoiled at his proximity. Most of her face was obscured by the shadows that spawned from her hood, but he could see the panic in her dark blue eyes; it was they that convinced him to walk away rather than to talk to her. She was quick to compose herself, but her eyes still told expressed the fear. There was nothing that could be done when someone was so irrationally afraid that they couldn't bring themselves to speak.

Fear was the enemy and he had no patience to deal with it for others.

o0o0o0o

Hernan was not a particularly picky individual when it came to food. His sister was not a very good cook, despite his mother's best efforts. She didn't measure her ingredients, instead choosing to add ingredients until "the spirits of our ancestors for signs that she needed to stop". When her experiments ultimately failed Hernan ate it just so it couldn't be thrown away.

Which was why he was always pleasantly surprised when something that was not cooked by his mother was particularly pleasant to eat. He was not delusion enough to think that his mother was a great cook but when it came to decent affordable food those where rare enough that it would that it might as well have been the case.

The Pizza Corner's triangular deck was full, but it wasn't packed. There was a couple on a date and three men talking animatedly about a pitch they were going to present to a local network taking up two out of the three tables and Hernan sitting alone in the last one. His brown duffle bag was by his feet as he scarfed down another slice of the of the meat lovers he had ordered.

The dough was good for the price, as were the toppings, the ambiance was energetic but not uncomfortable, and the size was decent enough that he could see himself returning.

Overall it was a peaceful night.

That was until a green streak of light hurtling across the sky like a comet zoomed between the Jump City skyline and crashed into the earth with enough force to shake the second floor to the point that Henan's meal slid to the cold floor.

He had been frozen in place as a dark memory was triggered deep from within.

_It had been a hard day._

_A few workers had been drinking while they worked the fields. Some had been stupid enough to make sexual advances at his sister, and though that they were man enough to beat the protective younger brother and impress her. He put them in their place with a soft strike to the nose and a swift kick to the legs. If Valentina had not been there Hernan would have gone much, much further._

_It would have been better._

_As they drove home, Hernan was too absorbed with the music to really pay attention to his mother's chastisements, but he had heard his father screams._

" _Que demonios!?" he shouted as his heavy boots slammed on the breaks. Hernan worried for the old man's health was outside the car in a split second. He looked up at the sky and saw an inferno. One of the planes that had rained poison on his family had caught fire midflight, leaving a long trail of smoke that came from the nearest farm. "Don't just stand there, mi hijo, jump up there and stop the plane_

" _Save him!" his mother begged not knowing what she asked of him. "Hernan do something quickly!"_

_How could they ask him to risk their safety for a that would kill them like roaches? How could they ask him to forgive such transgressions against his family!?_

_He never managed to voice his protest._

_There was a sound like an explosion of wind and in the place of the raging inferno was a man in blue with a red flowing cape. In his arms was the pilot and on his chest was the S that had become more than a symbol. There above them floating like a benevolent god was a man that stood beyond men._

_The Last Son of a dead world._

_Superman._

_He was represented truth, justice, and the American Way but he had never lifted a finger to help people like his family. He never blew back the poison, the abuses of men with power, or saved the ones that had too little to eat or drink. Yet he traveled two thousand miles to save a man who wasn't worth the dirt that stained Hernan's ripped jeans._

Back in the present, Hernan rose from his table to observe the crater left behind in the blast's wake. His knuckles where white with the strain of his closed fist. It was a deep crater that lifted the concrete street in a halo of jagged rocks, from it a woman in armor the likes he had never seen before arose with glowing green eyes. She was beautiful but there was anger in her that was very much on par with his own.

"Slopforn ivortmat!" She yelled as she slid down the jagged slabs, spooking the fools too dumb to run away from the clearly enraged alien. "Slopforn! Ond gudshik zerrole!" She swung her manacled arms wildly to push back the gathered crowd. The smarter members of the crowd gave the alien space, but there was one who either refused to move or was to afraid to do so.

The idiot stood stark still as the alien growled at him like a cornered animal. She approached him with her shackled arms pulled back to take a swing at him when blinding light from the fool's little green camera made her stager. She blinked a few times it did little else than that. When she adjusted to it her eyes were blazing twice as bright.

She didn't bother with the idiot at that point instead smashing her arms into the ground knocking over those closest to her and scattering the crowd. There was a hole straight to the sewer. The alien struck a passing cab, sending swerving into streetlight before launching herself at a bank of payphones and destroying them with a single strike, and then slammed through a stone bench. She flexed her arms, probably checking if her shackles were weakened.

Fortunately for the innocent people she was threatening the shackles held true, unfortunately for the alien she turned her attention to the pillar holding up the Pizza Corner.

Hernan had seen enough.

As angry as he had been, he hadn't wanted to interfere not until she had lashed out at the taxi that had tried to get away. If she was willing to attack noncombatants than she would be willing to attack anyone and he could not allow that.

He would not stand by.

He would not allow the innocent to suffer if could do something about it.

He would not be like Superman!

_You will make them kneel, my son._

Hernan pushed his way to the tip of the plat from, passed the animators and the couple, and jumped down to meet the orange alien. She was still a fair a ways away when he hit the ground running. She responded by accelerating her own charge.

Glowing green eyes locked onto glowing red before their fists met.

His choice made Hernan would not kneel.

o0o0o0o

A/N: So this chapter was pretty much set up for the next one. Henan is a younger au version of Gods and Monsters Superman which is my second favorite version of the Man of Steel. The lack of flight and other powers is because he hasn't been exposed to enough yellow sun at his age to achieve those a abilities by the time his reached his prime he should be able to do what Superman could when he started out. This is to make him less OP and a bit more relatable considering he's kind of an angsty bastard.


	2. GO! Part 2

Go! Part Two.

Hernan had never been outmatched, not in a fight, at least. His speed was greater than most cars, and his strength could stop a bull at full charge with minimal effort. His super-human gifts had made it impossible to overtake. Skills meant nothing; surprise meant nothing; strategy meant nothing. He could have been a veritable juggernaut if he were so inclined, yet the alien was just as strong, just as fast, and knew combat arts that Hernan could not hope to counter.

“ZOP!”

For every punch that landed, there were four more that swung uselessly at air. Each blow was at best glancing and never completely solid, but the very nature of the engagement limited his options, so he pressed on with the barest hope that his plan could succeed. A battle was very much like a dance. Two opponents moving around each other, advancing and retreating with the rhythm of the conflict, and with one of them setting the pace, it was only fair that he set the direction. Hernan could not hope to defeat his opponent with his fists, so he moved around her, only retreating far enough to draw her away from the local and towards the water.

“YARK!”

His anger drowned away any fear he had against a clearly superior foe, but there was fear in his heart. What would happen if he failed to stop her there and now? How many innocent lives would she claim before her bloodlust was sated? How many children would she cripple with her sheer strength before Superman or his Justice League were spurred into action? Each question made the determination in his heart sing louder and his rage to burrow deeper.

Because he had failed once to protect Valentina, Hernan would not do so again.

He swung his fist in a wild sweep that he knew the alien would dodge, and she responded predictably by smashing her shackled arms into his abs. The thunderous sound of the strike was deafening, but his body held firm. The metal that bound the alien’s arms together creaked under the strain of being in between a force that would not relent and an object that would not give. The grunt that escaped him was the only outward indication that the blow had affected him.

“MESNEF!”

Then she struck him again with more force; again, her metal bonds creaked and warped, but this time he could not hide his body’s reaction. Hernan could not disguise the agony of being hit with so much force that he could do nothing but buckle under its strain. Still, he did not fall. Her attack left her open to retaliation, and as such, Hernan capitalized on the opportunity given. His calloused hand wrapped around her armored arms and lifted her off the ground. The alien was close enough that her speed, though greater than his, couldn’t save her from his grip.

“I SHALL NOT YEILD, MONSTER!” His declaration of intent was loud enough to make nearby

Just as Herakles lifted the Giant Antaeus during his twelve labors, so did Hernan lift his enemy off the ground by her armored neck and squeezed. The armor creaked in protest, but it yielded neither to his strength nor his mounting rage. Her glowing green eyes glared at him with as much hatred as Hernan had for the man that stole his sister’s legs away, were bared in a snarl fit for a savage animal, and she spoke in a loud snarl. “Zarbnarf Glubnorb!” She sent a glob of spit at Hernan’s face and struck his chest with her knee. 

Both struck him, but only one caught him by surprise.

A second later, the earth shook as a new crater was made a few scant feet from the one the alien had created upon entry. There was a certain kind of irony that was lost to Hernan as he dutifully smashed his opponent into the ground about how she was technically responsible for the two craters.

His father was a harsh but good man. Manuel Guerra was respected by those who knew him because he was knowledgeable and unmovable. He was hot-tempered, but his heart was vast. Life had tempered the fury that coursed through his veins, making him into the honest man that had found a boy in a burning field giving him a home. He bellowed and threatened, but he always forgave. No matter the amount of disrespect that came out like venom from the often-rebellious Hernan, or his sister’s naivete, or their mother’s zealous devotion to a being that had ignored Hernan’s payers…

…Manuel Guerra forgave. 

Hernan Guerra would not.

The virtue that his father embodied should have been enough to hold Hernan back, to make him hesitate, as he crouched over his enemy’s struggling from, but there was only so much disrespect that he could take. His family had lived in Warpath for years, yet they were always treated as outsiders in their community. The migrant workers treated them as outsiders because they had a small plot of land outside the city despite having worked beside them for years. They turned on his family because they had managed something that most of them thought was a lofty dream out of jealousy. Their supposed community didn’t consider them part of it because his family barely had a cabin let alone enough money to be worth the effort to befriend. The gangs harassed them because they made a point to remain unaffiliated with them and their numerous crimes, and the law harassed them because Hernan fit the profile for Santana’s men.

A young Latino dissatisfied with life.

Hernan could have changed their lives in a day if his parents had allowed him, but they feared the challenges that his powers draw. He could have brought them great fortunes, a voice so that others could hear their plight, and a better life using the ‘gifts’ that came from his birth. Instead, he plowed the fields during the day and worked at Reyes’ Garage until well into the night. All in the name of an ‘honest’ days’ work.

Still, they laughed at his sister’s back, whispered about his mother’s devotion, and mocked the efforts of his father despite how they bore fruit. And those were just the insults that came from the people that were supposed to share camaraderie with. The other groups would either try to poison them or were apathetic towards their suffering because, for some reason, they were well off enough that helping them would be excessive.

He pinned her shackled arms to her stomach with his knees while his course left hand kept her head and neck in place as his right came down on her in a flurry of punches. Each strike shook the street. The blows were near deafening as they grew in number and intensity. His enemy winced as she thrashed in an effort to free herself, her glowing eyes closed whenever his fist raised near to her face. If his head had been clearer, he might have noticed that while she winced, she did not recoil as Hernan did when hit. He might have understood just how outmatched he truly was if not for the advantage of his position.

So engrossed was he that he failed to notice a flamboyantly dressed boy arrive on the scene or the projectile that he threw rapidly approaching Hernan’s ear. Hernan caught sight of the projectile out of the corner of his eye right before it would hit him. It was an oddly shaped object that reminded him of an abstract bird drawn by Pablo Picasso. It was red with two blades jutting out of a handle with a yellow tip that symbolized a beak. Hernan ignored it in favor of focusing on his enemy instead of on a distraction.

That was a mistake.

Instead of striking the side of Hernan’s head, the projectile detonated a hair’s breadth from his ear. The explosion itself was disorientating, but it was the sound that destroyed his balance. His hands flew to his ear as his body instinctually recoiled from the attack, an opportunity that her enemy took to unseat him. She managed to dismount him with a thrust of her hip, and then she brought up her shackled arms in an uppercut, sending him flying him into the air. 

His head was so fuzzy that the pain did not immediately register, not until his body reached the zenith of his arc, and he began to plummet. He landed with a heavy thud that cracked the street. Hernan groaned as he tried to stand, but the dizziness made him stumble.

“Easy there!” The flamboyant boy shouted from a position that Hernan could not see. “I’m just trying to hel-oof!” Hernan could hear the boy skid across the street, but he did not hear

the tell-tale sound of him crashing, so at least Hernan wouldn’t have to scrape the idiotic child off of a wall when this battle reached its inevitable conclusion. Though he did hear another car being destroyed.

Once more attempted, Hernan rise to his feet, this time supporting his weight on the taxi the alien destroyed earlier and looked on as the flamboyant boy bobbed and weaved around the alien who was in an incoherent rage. The boy was not faster than his opponent, but he was far much more competent of a fighter than her. He was already moving to avoid an incoming attack before the alien committed to it, and it proved effective in chipping away at her sanity. They moved past a shadowed alleyway when the boy decided to go on the offensive. Reaching beneath his cape, he exposed a canary yellow belt that produced several black marbles that he flung to her face. Much like the previous projectile that the boy flung, it detonated, but the explosion’s magnitude was much larger. 

The boy stopped to observe the aftermath of his attack with a far too calm face though his muscles never relaxed. He produced a collapsible metal staff from his belt and entered a ready stance like in the movies that Valentina so adored. The smoke quickly dissipated, revealing the alien standing next to a sand-colored car. Using the tip of her boot, she lifted it into the air, and with a kick that would have made Hugo Sanchez proud, sent it careening towards the boy’s head.

“Whoa!” The boy dipped beneath the vehicle, barely managing to escape an untimely death, and rolled out of the way. The fool took his eyes off of his opponent to glance at the car that nearly took his head. “She’s stronger than she looks.” His gaze lingered too, and he was caught by surprise by the alien that managed to land a glancing blow to his chin that sent him skidding across the street into the collapsing Pizza Slice. There was a sense of satisfaction that welled up in Hernan at the sight of the boy’s wide-eyed shock.

To his credit, the boy recovered quickly and was able to counter her follow up by moving under her swing and smashing his staff into the back of her head. The alien rammed into a parked car headfirst while the boy stood with a cocky smirk. She was tiring if the slowness of her recovery was any indication. The smirk on the boy’s face vanished as his weapon crumbled away to dust from the force of his attack.

Hernan’s body was aching as it had never done so before, but that did not stop him from trying to move toward battle and offer his aid even if the boy was unworthy of it. Each step was like walking on glass as bolts of pain ran through him. The anger was still there, but it did not reach his head as it had his heart. Like the boy, he knew that he would need to outwit her as he also knew that he could not do so with a clouded head. He did not let the pain show through as he soldiered on because his pride would not allow him to and because he could use it to frighten his enemy.

He had almost reached the boy when the alien finally managed to free herself. She had cracked her sent them both a chilling smirk that had caught the boy off guard while Hernan had replied with one of his own.

“Zota.” She mocked as she loosened her neck. Hernan was almost sure that she was insulting them in her dialect, so turn around was fair play.

“Cabróna!” Hernan shot back with confidence he was starting to feel once more.

The alien, as if she could understand, charged at them with a great leap. She let out a roar that would have frightened a lesser man. Hernan launched himself into a sprint to meet her before she could turn the flamboyant boy into a smear, but it turned out that he hadn’t needed to as a strange green bighorn sheep crashed into her side and diverting her into an abandoned bus.

The bighorn turned into a small, green-skinned child wearing the colors and uniform of Doom Patrol with elfin ears and pointy canines. Magenta and black with grey gloves, boots, and a mask that covered the top half of his face. The only reason that Hernan recognized the uniform was because of a massive scandal that had fractured the group. Something about their leader being exposed as a head of a cloning conspiracy or some such nonsense.

“Ex-Doom Patrol member Beast Boy, sir! How can I help?” The child introduced himself with a well-practiced salute, though his voice cracked with nearly every word. The salute was very professional, not the kind of thing that Hernan would encourage on the battlefield. Still, it was a sign of deference that he would have appreciated from the bright colored interloper that had sabotaged an assured victory. Perhaps since he cut a much more imposing figure than a boy running around in green, red, and yellow costume, the salute was directed at Hernan. Considering the child had introduced himself with an alias, Hernan felt that it would be best to reciprocate in kind for the sake of ending the battle quickly and decisively. He was about to do so when the so-called Beast Boy’s attention was drawn to the boy.

Hernan should have known that something was wrong when Beast Boy’s eyes lit up like Valentina’s did whenever their father brought home a new Luchadoras vs. film. The sheer joy had wiped away any thought he had regarding their shared enemy.

“Wowzer! You’re Robin, aren’t you, sir?” Beast Boy said with such reverence that Hernan’s expression immediately became analytical of the spiky-haired alebrije. Upon seeing Henan’s face, Beast Boy snapped back into attention. His skills were undoubtedly impressive, but his actions upon interfering with Hernan’s battle did not speak well of his experience. Perhaps this Robin was a subordinate to a well-known hero, which was Robin’s attempt to establish themselves as separate.

Whatever Robin’s response was, it was lost to Hernan as his attention focused on the alien. She had taken advantage of Beast Boy’s introduction to lift the bus off the ground, slowly struggling to raise it above her head with shaking arms.

In the scant few seconds, it took for Hernan to ascertain the enemy’s recovery, Beast Boy had descended into a rambling state with wide-eyed glee and a dreamy smile. “Well, let me just say that it’s a real honor to be- “

“Focus on the enemy.” Hernan interrupted shooting Beast Boy, a look that snapped the back into mission mindset and cut off whatever response Robin was going to use to deal with his fan. “Words can wait until the citizenry is safe.” 

Robin’s eyes narrowed, his expression a mask of grim determination that Hernan would have respected had it come from someone that was not taking the situation seriously. “I’m not looking to be part of some team.”

“Then you can go preen on the sidewalk, alebrije,” Hernan responded with a dry humorless tone. It was the kind of tone used to spark challenge that would spur Robin into action or get him out of the way. Either would work fine despite the former being preferable. If he were involved, then his skill alone would be enough to distract Starfire, add Hernan’s strength and the Beast Boy’s potential, and the alien would have no chance at victory. “Beast Boy and I have a city to save.”

In the face of the choice, Robin chose well as he silently became ready.

“Are you ready?” Hernan asked his pointy-eared comrade, his voice deep with confidence. It was a gesture meant to inspire that he learned from his father. Whenever a worker was lagging, or that deadly tiredness crept into their tone, Manuel Guerra spoke to them about his Dream, and with such a rich tone, few stayed uninspired for long.

“Yes, sir.” Was his firm response.

“Good.” With that, Hernan was off. Half a second later, Hernan’s muscular right arm smashed into the alien’s face in a close line, that in Hernan’s humble opinion, for the ages. His enemy bounced off the concrete, breaking off her shackles’ outer shell. However, it was not fast enough to stop her from launching the bus at Robin and Beast Boy.

They should have been able to dodge with the warning given, or at least, so he thought. The bus had almost reached them by the time they had started to move out of the way. It flew through the air towards the duo like a missile, barreling towards them with force. To their credit, Beast Boy managed to lurch out of the way while Robin rolled to the side just as the bus made an unceremonious crash landing. Then a tall, bulky figure jumped in front of the bus before it could crash into a building.

The figure lifted the bus overhead to distribute the energy before dropping it to the side. The man and his features were hidden by an oversized hoodie even for the considerable size of the man. His hands were covered in thick leather gloves, and his hood was up, shadowing the upper half of his face. Besides the man’s height, the only thing that made him stand out was a glowing red eye that shone differently than Hernan and the alien’s own bright eyes.

Where Hernan and the aliens seemed to be an organic luminescence, the newcomer’s shone like a screen.

“Yo! Who’s here messing with my neighborhood!?” And there it was, a sensible question asked before jumping to the fray. Immediately Hernan had more respect for the man than he did for Beast Boy’s Idol.

“She started it!” Beast Boy chimed in helpfully.

“And we must finish it!” Hernan called as he looked away from his allies and to his limping opponent. She looked tired and desperate. Hernan did not know of a more dangerous combination. She lifted her in front of her so that her exposed fists were aimed towards him and unleashed a torrent of green concussive force in the form of bolts of energy. Just like that, the battlefield felt like it had devolved into a warzone.

Their enemy’s aim was poor as gravel and smoke exploded into the air as the star bolts flew wide and wildly. Hernan barely managed to dodge the first volley before the second sent him skidding towards his rapidly approaching allies.

The bolts stung, but they weren’t unbearable. The push that accompanied the bolts was much more bothersome than the pain from the attack itself. The fact that he had nothing under his control to counter his enemy’s new ranged ability burned him even more.

‘If only I could…’ Hernan was ripped away from his thoughts when an unfamiliar hand clasped him on the shoulder and dragged him behind a bus for cover. 

“Keep your head in the game, man.” The newcomer scolded while keeping low in a one knee crouch. Henan’s eyes widened as he caught sight of the man’s face. He had been right in his assumption that the newcomer’s red eye was not organic, but he hadn’t expected the extent of how much just was not there. Most of his body under the clothes were covered by technology that Hernan could barely comprehend. Circuitry that was not protected by the metal was covered by a crystalline material that shined blue. It was as if the metal were alive as it interacted with the few organic pieces. “You’re in for it now, Vic.” He mumbled under his breath, clearly catching the look as his face became resigned. “Girl’s gonna wreck the whole town.” Just as quickly, the face settled on mad.

“I won’t let her,” Robin stated as if it were his fight to lose. “I won’t lose this fight!”

The blasts stopped, and immediately the four of them rushed from behind the bus. Robin was in the lead; Hernan was right behind him, with Beast Boy turning into a leopard besides Hernan and the cyborg trailing behind. As they neared her, a wall in the shape of a black bird sprouted out from the shadows and stalled their advance.

“Maybe fighting isn’t the answer.” A new voice warned. Their heads turned towards its origin, and Hernan’s eyes narrowed as he recognized its owner. It was the girl from the bookstore; the one draped in the blue cloak. The girl that recoiled in fear at the sight of him. She looked just as uncomfortable now as she did back then.

Hernan was outraged.

The alien had attacked the ordinary people, destroyed their cars, blasted their businesses and their homes. Yet when they had finally tired her, when they were on the cusp of victory by subduing her, this bystander that did not fight to protect the people, nor did she lift a finger to contain the damage, was demanding that they did not fight.

“And who are you to decide that?” He challenged, standing his ground. His voice was like ice.

“An observer.” She answered in a dry tone. “She can’t keep fighting, and you don’t know why she’s fighting. It’s pointless.” Hernan looked at her, then turned to the enemy and shook his head. The alien was on her knees, her hands smoking. She panted for air. This was their chance to end the fight. Any information they are missing could be recovered after dealing with the immediate threat. 

“Stand down,” Robin ordered as he broke away from the group and approached their exhausted enemy. 

“What do you think that you’re the boss or something?” The newcomer protested at the same time as Hernan did.

“Who the hell do **you** think you are **?** ”

“Just give me a chance.” Robin insisted, and Hernan did not move to stop him. If the alien attacked, the battle would continue, and he would be proven right, or she wouldn’t, and she could be dealt with by the proper authorities. Just as he reached arm’s length, her hands ignited, and she sent made him retreat at the sudden movement.

“Gokta!”

“Easy! My name’s Robin, and I don’t want to hurt you.” He said soothingly as he pulled a lock pick from his utility belt. “I just want to help.”

“Gokta! Gokta buhovna!” The alien seeing the motion, decided to move, giving Hernan every excuse to intervene, but he did not. Robin only held up the lockpick, and that was enough.

“It’s okay.” He started working on the mechanism keeping her bound. “Look.” And then the shackles fell apart. The alien rubbed her forearms with a wary expression on her face. “There. Now we can be- “

Robin was lifted into a scorching kiss before he was unceremoniously dropped. Much to the shock of everyone involved, especially Robin. Her eyes began to glow once more, and she started to hover menacingly.

Hernan stepped forward, with the cyborg lifting his fist, and Beast Boy turned into a buzzard.

“If you wish not to be destroyed, you will leave me alone!” She shot off into the air and disappeared into the night.

They just stood there, either puzzled or still in some semblance of shock.

“So… I’m Beast Boy.” He turned to the cyborg. “What’s your name?”

o0o0o0o

High above the blue planet, the Citadel prison ship hovered as its scanners followed the Tamaranean’s energy signature. The ship had been part of the Citadel’s fleet that ended the four-hundred-year siege of Tamaran. In fact, it was this ship’s particle cannon that had been the first to breach the planet-wide shield that had stopped the Citadel’s conquest of the Vega. As a result, it was given the special privilege of transporting Tamaran’s heir apparent back to the heart of the Citadel to be a trophy for the rest of her days.

Trogaar had helmed the bridge for two generations of warriors, which meant that he never failed as a failure in the Citadel equaled fates worse than death, and he would not allow a spoiled Tamaranean princess to be his first.

The coward Myand’r had handed her over as soon as the shield fell. It baffled him that his daughter somehow managed to have more spine than a king.

“Sir, we have found the prisoner.”

“Good,” Trogaar said with a growl. “Deploy the search party and let us return with glory!”

The ship shook as the drop pod fell towards earth.

They would either find the princess or raise the planet; either would be fine with him.

o0o0o0o

A/N: One more part to end Go!.

So, what do you think? I didn’t want to keep the fight too similar to the original but not straying away too far. Not much to share other than the first impressions of the characters will shape their interactions for a while. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please share your thoughts, and I hope to see you next time!


End file.
